


i think we're close enough

by tosca1390



Category: Psy-Changeling - Nalini Singh
Genre: F/M, Next-Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 18:10:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2517032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tosca1390/pseuds/tosca1390
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Declan didn’t quite realize how the empathy thing affected <i>everything</i> until he and Elena got together. </p>
<p>The mating bond – yeah, he knows it’s going to happen. He’s known since he was 18, and Elena came to Liam and Caitlin’s high school graduation with her mom and dad looking well – like a woman. With her hair all loose and curly and in a sundress that he still remembers for the short hem and the bright red flowers on the fabric, happy against her caramel skin. He remembers it like it was yesterday, the day when he <i>knew</i>. So that? He’s not worried. It will happen when it happens. Elena has to be ready. He’s not going to push her into anything. </p>
<p>So, she’s not ready for the mating bond. Totally fine. The sex thing though – <i>jesus</i>. She’s more than ready for that, except – </p>
<p>“Wait – “ she pants from underneath him, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed darkly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i think we're close enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magisterequitum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterequitum/gifts).



> In the same universe as [they call me a little grown up](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1946406).
> 
> For Jordan, from a tumblr prompt.

*

Declan didn’t quite realize how the empathy thing affected _everything_ until he and Elena got together. 

The mating bond – yeah, he knows it’s going to happen. He’s known since he was 18, and Elena came to Liam and Caitlin’s high school graduation with her mom and dad looking well – like a woman. With her hair all loose and curly and in a sundress that he still remembers for the short hem and the bright red flowers on the fabric, happy against her caramel skin. He remembers it like it was yesterday, the day when he _knew_. So that? He’s not worried. It will happen when it happens. Elena has to be ready. He’s not going to push her into anything. 

So, she’s not ready for the mating bond. Totally fine. The sex thing though – _jesus_. She’s more than ready for that, except – 

“Wait – “ she pants from underneath him, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed darkly. 

They lay tangled on her couch in her city apartment, weak February sunlight dotting the hardwood floors. He’s got his hands under her sweater and on her breasts and his mouth on her neck and she tastes exactly like he thought she would, like sunshine and the ocean and something sweet. He’s breathing heavily and his dick is rock-hard in his pants and she’s saying wait and he wants to die, just a little bit. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, dragging his hands away from her soft breasts and gripping the curve of her waist instead. 

Her eyes are nearly black, the psychic energy between them thrumming, raising the hair on his hairs. She pets at his shoulders, at the short crop of his hair against his scalp. “I just – you’re just – “

Her empathy is an animal he’s still trying to negotiate. Taking a deep breath, he shifts his weight off of her and rolls up to a sitting position, letting her catch her breath, collect herself emotionally. She’s told him more than once that her empathetic shields seem to disintegrate with him; she’s never said it was a problem, just that she can’t keep him out any more than she can’t hide her own reactions. He likes that, for the most part; he likes that he’s the only one who affects her that deeply. 

When she sits up next to him, he immediately reaches for her hand. Skin privileges with her mean everything to his wolf, who circles inside his head and rumbles protectively, wanting their mate to be safe and comfortable. When she curls her fingers around his, everything in him relaxes. 

“I think I just need to feel like I’m in control,” she says at last, voice thick. The flush stays high and dark on her caramel skin. 

Declan blinks, suddenly ill. “Am I pushing you too much?”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I just – you’re just so _much_ , and I _feel_ so much, and – “

She bites her bottom lip, shy suddenly in a way she hasn’t been since she was 14. 

“Hey,” he says, gentle and easy. “Whatever you want to do. It’s all good.”

She looks up at him, all flushed and curly haired and beautiful, and her mouth relaxes into a faint smile. His dick might break, but it would be worth it. 

“Can I – would you just sit here?” she asks. “Sit here, and not do anything until I told you to?”

He blinks. “Uh – well – “

“I think if I control everything, my empathy will learn how to regulate the emotions associated with sexual activity,” she says, the words shooting righto his dick. 

Everything in him relaxes as the words spill out of her mouth. Her brain is so _hot_. “You’re hot when you talk like a professor,” he teases.

She smiles brightly, like the sunshine-rainbow girl he’s loved for years. “Just – don’t move. No touching. No anything,” she says slowly, dropping his hand and rising in front of him. 

He looks her over and wets his lips. “Okay,” he says, because what else can he say? He can deny her nothing. Kaleb could show up right now and beat the hell out of him for touching his only daughter, and he’d still take it if she asked him to do so. 

She won’t, but he would do it. 

He lays his hands flat on the couch cushions, uncomfortably aware of his erection threatening to poke a hole in his jeans, and watches her. 

Elena hesitates just a moment, standing in front of him in just her sweater and skirt, her legs and toes bare. She licks her lips and reaches for the hem of her sweater, pulling it over her head and dropping it to the floor. In her tank top and skirt, she looks flushed and beautiful, her hair strewn about messily, her fingers knotted together in front of her belly. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, and she bites her lips on a smile. 

“No talking unless I say so,” she scolds, though he can feel her pleasure at the compliment. 

Smirking slightly, he presses his lips together and waits. 

Next, she slips off her skirt, a black pencil that shifts and stretches with the curve of her thigh. She kicks it aside and trembles in her black cotton panties and tank top, watching him watch her. 

_Shit._

“I think this is working,” she says softly, walking the few steps towards him. Her hands fall to his shoulders. She braces herself as she sits astride him on his lap, her knees sinking into the cushions at either side of his hips. 

He doesn’t speak, though he dips his head forward to rest against her forehead. She pets her fingers over his scalp, the nape of his neck. Gathering his shirt in her hands, she tugs up. He goes as she directs, peeling the fabric from his chest. He is bare to her gaze, his erection hard against the give of her thigh. She leans back slightly and looks at him, strokes her hands over his chest. 

“You are very attractive,” she muses, and he chokes back a laugh. Her fingers find old scars, the thick hair springy from his pectorals. 

“Would you kiss me?” she asks softly as her fingers explore his chest, her mouth dipping close to his. 

In response, he leans in and kisses her gently, his mouth opening over hers softly. Her tongue is wet and warm and she sighs into his mouth, controlling the pace and energy of the kiss. Her hands continue to touch his bare skin, leaving ripples of goosebumps in her wake. It would be embarrassing how much he wants her, how his hips instinctively rock into hers as she shifts her weight. But this is his mate; this is the love of his life. He would never push her faster than she wants to go. 

“Declan?” she whispers against his mouth. “Can I take off your jeans?”

“Good god, yes,” he groans. 

She laughs softly, her small hands teasing against the buckle of his belt, the button of his jeans. He wraps his hands at her waist to lift her as she tugs the jeans from his hips, and he kicks them off at the ankles, jarring her with the movement. But she laughs again and presses his hands back onto the cushions, away from her body, her skin very warm against his as she kisses his jaw, the corner of his mouth. 

“You feel really good,” she whispers, one delicate hand sliding under the band of his boxers. She is hesitant but when she touches his dick, his eyes roll into the back of his head and he lets out a low growl of a moan. Still, he does not move his hands. He will not break her trust. 

She strokes him slow and easy, her tongue licking out against his throat, his collarbones. The smell of her hair fills his nose, and her arousal is clear; he can taste it in the air. Muscles trembling, he rocks into her grip, panting low and heavy against her hair. 

“Will you touch me like this?” she asks against his skin. 

He freezes, the need to touch her overwhelming. His wolf is right at the edge of his skin, his ache for the taste of her a feral thing. “Do you want me to?” he asks, voice low and rough. 

She raises her head, her eyes wide but calm. “Yes, I do.”

He slides his hands over her thighs slowly, edging up to the hem of her panties. She is damp through the cotton and when he cups her, her entire body shivers. Her fingers wrap around his dick in a rough flinch and he rocks against her, groaning. His mouth finds hers and she is as desperate as he is, her tongue insistent and wet in his mouth. His fingers push aside her panties and the feel of her slick sex around him grounds him, the wolf rolling about in her scent and her soft panting sighs. She bites at his bottom lip as she strokes his dick, and he cups her breast through her tank top as he sinks his fingers into her, one-and-two, his thumb circling her clit. 

They finish each other there, just hands and tongues, until they are both damp and breathless, pleasure thrumming between them like a live current in the air. She curls up to his shoulder and he strokes his hands over her back, kissing and nuzzling her hair and the curve of her neck. 

“Thank you,” she says after a long moment. 

He tightens his grip on her. “Anything you want, love,” he says, and means it. 

*


End file.
